


Healing Touch

by ellymango



Category: Ballerina | Leap! (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Healing, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Post-Movie(s), Scars, burn scars, i mean you could consider this to be a bit nsfw but no porn actually happens, playful kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellymango/pseuds/ellymango
Summary: She'd hidden them for far too long, barely able to touch them herself. Never before had she ever even dreamed of letting another person stroke them, trace each wrinkle and raised vein, caress the border between soft skin and raw burns.Until today.





	Healing Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note that I couldn't quite fit in: I imagine Odette is wearing a light shirt in this, or just a shirt without her little waistcoat. Hence why he's able to feel them under her clothes.

“May I come in?”

“You don’t even need to ask. Not when I have the door wide open anyway.” Odette finished straightening the sheets on her bed, easing herself up using the bed post as support. “What brings you here?”

Mérante lingered in the doorway, leaning in. “Is Félicie around...?”

“She went out after class. Why, do you want her?” 

“Well I was hoping I could have a talk with her about her... technique.”

“Is it still bad?” 

“She’s slacking terribly. You’ve noticed too, I take it?”

With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh, Odette drew herself up, her back cracking into place. “It’s rather hard to miss, unfortunately.”

“Do you know _why_ it’s slacking?”

 _“Well.”_ Her face turned coy. “I found out yesterday that when we have out post-class meetings that we may not be completely alone after all.” 

His eyebrows went up. _“Ah.”_

“She was excited, to say the least. Asked me if she could be a bridesmaid at our wedding.”

Mérante’s laugh rang out through the hallways, causing him to slap his hand over his mouth. “Goodness that was loud.”

“Yes, the hallways up here have an impressive echo.”

“So I noticed!” He broke out into the most glorious fit of giggles at the sound of his echoing voice, before catching himself and regaining his stately composure with a cough. “Sorry, I got... carried away.”

Odette stared quietly, mouth twitching. “I haven’t heard you laugh like that in years...” 

“Hm? What was that?”

She snapped back up, slapping herself mentally for her loose tongue. “Oh, I was just thinking.” 

“Were you now?”

“Yes. You must be hearing things.” She turned from him, flashing a smirk over her shoulder, and absently plumped the limp pillow on her bed.

“Am I?” He stepped over in a single stride, pulled Odette closer and pressed a long, slow kiss onto the back of her neck. “Because I swore I heard something.”

She mused, straightening into his sudden yet welcome display of affection. “That’s an odd place for a kiss.”

He said nothing, and kissed again, and again. She gasped, a shiver of pleasure running through her body as she straightened up into his embrace as he slowly left a trail of kisses down the exposed skin of her neck. He stopped at her shirt, lingering on his last kiss.

“You don’t mind this, do you?” He whispered in her ear, kissing it once he finished.

She hummed, thinking for a moment, before turning to face him and lay her own kiss on his cheek. “Not at all.” If anything she wanted him to continue, to keep showering her in kisses and spontaneous affection.

 _“Wonderful.”_ He brushed his temple against hers, both of them trying to aim haphazardly for the others lips and missing each time, covering the other’s cheek in quick, dainty kisses. They eventually touched lips, breaking out into breathy, childlike giggles.

“Are we too old for this?”

“I hope not!” He delved in for another cheek kiss, peppering kisses across the neck and collar of a now deliriously laughing Odette. 

Then she felt his hands absently wandering down.

She froze, feeling them come to rest over the deep, rough scars spliced across her abdomen. Whether Mérante read her thoughts or felt the burns lurking beneath her light blouse was unclear, but he backed away immediately, slightly horrified.

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry...” he rambled off into a long and drawn out apology, breaking their contact, and edging towards the door. “I... should get going, I’m terribly sorry for that, I didn’t realise... I forgot you, you had them _there_...” He stopped, hand moving up to cover his mouth slightly, and continued to bumble over his words until he collided with the open door. 

“Louis.” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, gazing at her with a nervous face still flush with embarrassment. She stepped over, and without saying anything took his hands. “I... don’t mind you touching there.”

He swallowed, his complexion seemingly a lot more drained than it had been when he came in. “Are you sure...?” 

“Yes.” She took a breath, exhaling most of her uncertainty. “Are you? Do you want to do this?”

“They’re healed now. They don’t bother me as much.” He laughed weakly. 

“Alright.” She guided his hands back down to her hips, easing them under her blouse and waistband of her skirt. She felt his hands stiffen and hesitate as they brushed against the raised veins and scaly skin. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No it’s fine.” His hands softened, caressing her hips and waist. “They feel so... strange.”

“Do they?” 

“So... smooth, yet so rough at the same time. How extraordinary...”

They stood in silence; heads bowed in a tense intimacy as Odette allowed Mérante’s hands to explore her bare skin, feeling them wander hesitantly over the old scars. 

“I... never thought you’d ever let me do this...” He slowly ran his hand up her spine, tracing each knoll all the way up to her shoulder blades, where her skin was soft and undamaged. “You’re certain you don’t mind?”

“Positive.” Though admittedly, it felt strange. Up until that day the idea of someone, anyone, seeing or touching her scars tormented her. Most days she could barely look at them herself, and refused to touch them willingly. Yet somehow, right now, she felt only contentment and peace in allowing someone else so close to her. She felt... liberated almost. Liberated from the old worries and insecurities that had plagued her for far too long.

She shuddered when his hands slid back down, grazing over the much more severe and ugly scarring along her hips and waist, where the skin was raw and wrinkled and her veins bulged out, angry and exposed. He carefully felt around her front, not daring to go any lower than her skirt.

“They... don’t hurt, do they?”

“No. Not anymore.” 

He chuckled in nervous relief. “Thank goodness.” He finally slipped his hands out from under her blouse, and took her hands in his. “I, uh... I never thought you’d allow me to do that, Odette.”

“Me neither...” She laced her fingers with his. “It’s funny. I feel as though I should have let you do that a long time ago.”

“You weren’t ready then. Some scars take longer to heal than others.” 

“True...” She smiled, seeming younger in the flickering light as she finally looked up to lock eyes with Mérante, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Louis. For... waiting this long.”

"Waiting for what?” 

_“Waiting for me to heal.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have too many MéraDette fics left... quel dommage. I do hope y'all are up for... Félicie.


End file.
